Hetalia Original Stories: Story of Louisiana
by Louisiane of Hetalia
Summary: Louisiana is a region that is found by France on the land that the Mississippi River runs along. She tells the story of her life as a region who becomes a state in the mess of the world. Fail summary.
1. The Start of My Life

**Hetalia Original Stories: The Story of Louisiana**

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR IT'S CHARACTERS. God help us if I did.**

**Rating: T**

**Warnings: A Romano-mouth...Pretty much it.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: The Start of My Life<br>**

Light was visible along the horizon of the land soon to be France's. One of his people has said to have found a river that leads to America's land and thought it would be a good way to send him goods and stuff. France, naturally, went to check it out.

So there he was, getting ready to step off of the ship, dressed in a light blue pirate's attire, and there I was, scared out of my mind. I was a young region, as small as a toddler, with a dirty face and dirty clothes. My short, chopper red hair had so much mud in it that it looked brown.

I hid in the bushes as he walked onto the sand by the river, _my_ river. He examined everything: the trees, the grass, the water. I took a step forward hoping to get a better look, and, without looking, I stepped on a raccoon's tail. It yelped, startling me and causing me to lose my balance. I fell backward onto my backside, cursing silently.

_'Damn, what a way to blow your cover…_' I thought. I heard the rustling of the bushes I was looking through, and I knew that he had found me…

…But, apparently, I was wrong. I saw no one looking through the bushes, unless you count the furry face of a 'coon. I crawled back to the bushes in time to see France plant a flag into the sand.

'..._Aw _HELL _no!_'

I burst through the bushes, yelling curses and running full speed toward him.

"Hey! This is _my_ land, you bastard! What gives _you_ the right to-"

WHAM!

I ran straight into the freakin' flagpole. I opened my eyes to see surprised blue ones staring back. My head pounded with fury and pain. "Well, lookie here..." the Frenchman said, with an obviously heavy accent.

'_He tries to steal my land, then he _mocks_ me? I don't think so!_'

I jumped up, ran to him, and started punching and kicking him in the leg while yelling at him.

"Who..." punch, "...do you..." punch, "...think..." kick, "...you _are_?" I yelled. I guess it seemed to have no effect on him, for he just stood there and smirked. "Wipe that smirk off your face!" I growled through my teeth. Boy, I was _pissed_!

He chuckled, adding fuel to my fiery rage. "Why should I not smile? I am happy that I found a child to care for," he said. Where was he going with this?

"If you choose to let me, I'll take you to my home, feed you, clean you up, and care for you. You won't have to live on your own anymore," he continued. Wow, that was cheesy. But, what was that he said about food?

As if on cue, a man in white clothing and a matching white hat-thing appeared in front of me with a heaping plate full of delicious-looking food.

"Try my Fricassee de Poulet," the man said. I could feel my mouth start to water as I stared at the plate of food. I turned my head toward France, silently asking, "Really?" through eye contact. He nodded his head, giving permission. I didn't hesitate.

Yanking the overflowing plate from his hands, I started shoveling down the food, piece by piece. I could vaguely taste something disgusting, but good at the same time. It tasted like grapes mixed with a type of vinegar, and made me feel a bit dizzy.

France stared in shock. "Wow, such an appetite for such a small boy," he murmured to himself. I paused for half of a second at that, then just continued eating.

'_I want to keep that charade,_' I thought.

When I had finished eating, which only took about a minute and a half because I was STARVED, I let out a content sigh. I've never tasted such delicious food! That grape-and-vinegar tasting stuff had done something to my head, though. It felt a bit light, and my vision went a bit blurry. Oh well, I brushed it off. France looked pleased as he handed me a cloth to wipe my mouth with.

"So, do you agree to let me take you in?" he asked. I guess this means final answer. I debated the question for a little bit. Should I go with him? He has delicious food... But he could be a molester! Wait, no, he looks too much like an idiot to be that. I couldn't choose, and my head was starting to feel fuzzier.

France waited patiently while I tried to come up with an answer. Finally, I just blurted it out.

"Fine, I agree," I muttered. I kind of regretted my answer for a mere second as he scooped me up into his arms and cradled my tiny body against his chest. I protested a bit, but the cradle felt... comfortable. I lost the battle with comfort and rested against his chest, laying my dirty head on his light blue coat. I could slightly feel the stubble on his chin against the top of my head. _Weirdo, _I thought.

He started to rock back and forth, probably trying to make me sleepy. "Now," he started, "rentrons à la maison, oui?" What the hell? Why is he speaking Babble-ish? I don't speak Babble-ish!

"Dude, English please!" I muttered, slightly annoyed. He chuckled at this. "Ah, sorry. I meant 'let's go home.'" he stated. "Looks like I have to teach you French. Don't worry though. You will absolutely _love_ the universal language of _amour_." he finished, all sparkly-eyed. "Okaay..." I responded. As I said before, _weirdo._

"Do you have a name?" he asked. I muttered a "no" in response as I felt myself drifting towards the dreamland filled with the food I ate and the grapey, vinegary stuff. The last thing I heard from him was a silent, "I guess I'm lucky to name you, Louisiane." before I fell fast asleep.

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><p><strong>I know it's a bit short...DON'T KILL ME! *dodges knives* <strong>

**So, yeah! Reviews would be nice, just to let me know on what I need to improve.  
><strong>


	2. The English Turn and The Beginning

**I DO NOT OWN HETALIA!**

**Prepare for crappy explanation of the English Turn...**

**Still rated T for Romano-mouth...  
><strong>

**"And good ol' Louisiana sarcasm!" Quote by my best friend**

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><p>Three days later, I awoke to some of France's crew yelling and cheering something in French. I didn't know what they were saying, but I <em>have<em> been taught some things, such as "Bonjour," "Comment alle-vous," and some numbers. France taught me everything I know, and gave me my "human name." It's Louis Bonnefoy. Louis "Louisiane" Bonnefoy. He named me after his king, or "boss" as he calls him. Me, I felt honored.

I heard the rush of people outside of our cabin, the one I have to share with France. What? I don't want to sleep in the prisoner's cells! Anyway, I heard more cheers from the crew, and that sparked my curiosity. I climbed out of the bed and crawled to the doorway of the cabin, peeking around the corner at the happy men.

"Nous être foyer! Nous être foyer!" they cheered on. I tried to think, but I didn't know what it meant. _'Damn it, French has to be so hard!' _I thought. As I pondered the language through my head, I almost didn't notice the shadow that loomed over me, until I heard an unfamiliar voice.

"Well, it looked like France has a new pet!" it said, loaded with the British accent that France told me about. I looked up and, sure enough, a man with huge, and I mean _huge_, eyebrows stood in front of me. I looked up at him strangely, what the hell is he doing on this ship, anyway?

"So, you're the bushy 'browed weirdo that hallucinates all the time?" I asked, a funny look on my face. "I heard that you talk to something called a 'unicorn.'" By the look on his face, I must have hit a nerve. He stared at me with an evil glare in his eyes. I had to admit, it did kind of scare me. _Kind of_.

"I'll remember that comment for later, but for now you're coming with me," he growled, picking me up by the scruff of my nightdress. I gasped and let out a yell, kicking the air.

"Hey, what the hell?" I yelled, trying to fight my way out of his grasp. "Let me go! You can't man-handle me! Let me go, damn it!" He brought me close to his face and grinned menacingly. I went to punch him in the eye, but he caught my fist.

"You're my colony now, so you're coming with me whether you like it or no-" he said, but paused. I looked at his neck and saw a metal object, no, a cutlass pressing against his skin. I traced the length of it, and my eyes fell upon France, his face lit with pure anger.

"Bonsoir, Angleterre," he said, venom dripping from every word. England held a terrified look as the metal pressed more into his neck. He tried to stammer out a sentence.

"H-how did you find o-out I was here, F-Frog?" he said, voice quivering from the fear of getting his throat sliced open. I watched with anticipation on what he would do, smirking behind my hand.

France's look turned to disgust. "That's not important. What is, though, is why do you have my son in your grasp?" he said, full of hate. Wait, did he just…call me his son? I felt my chest warm up and my eyes water. '_I will not cry. I will _not _cry_,' I thought, but the tears rebelled as they slid down my cheek. I don't think I've ever felt so…_loved._

My thoughts scrambled as I felt England let go of my collar, making me fall to the floor with a hard _thud_ and a muttered "ow." I sat up and rubbed my sore butt, then heard France speak again.

"That is _my _colony, and this is _my_ ship, so I strongly suggest that you turn around and jump off before I have my crew attack you without mercy. Do you understand me, you filthy Englishman?" he said, his voice staying dangerously calm. I hid another smirk.

England wasted no time in turning and jumping off of the ship, swimming his way to his own that was hidden behind a large cliff. I watched, amused, as the ship turned around and headed north. '_Hmm…English Turn…I'll have to name a future port after that!_' I thought. What? It's my port, so I'll name it what I want!

France sheathed the cutlass and walked over to me, scooping me up and cradling me against his chest like he normally does. It was a perfect time to get something off of my mind.

"Um…what does 'Nous être foyer' mean?" I asked, a bit embarrassed that I didn't know. France chuckled lightly at my lack of knowledge.

"Well, Louis," he started as he walked up onto the deck. "It means 'We're home.'" I looked out and expected more of the ocean, but to my surprise, I saw nothing but a port bustling with people. My eyes widened as I looked back up to France. He smiled back down at me before saying, "Welcome to the country of France, mon cher Louis."

I smiled back up to him, eyes bright with happiness. We were finally about to dock!

It took a while(four freakin' hours to be exact) to reach the city "Paris" from the port. France had told me all kinds of stuff that was there, like art places, fine restaurants, and all that good stuff. It's also the capital of the country and where his house is.

The cart stopped and the coachman opened the door for us. France payed and thanked him, lifting me out of the cart and setting me on the ground so I could walk. He grabbed my hand and we started to walk the streets. We walked for about fifteen minutes, the whole time he was singing about how "great" this place was. I sighed and rolled my eyes, but had to admit, this place _was_ pretty nice.

We were almost to the house(more like _mansion_) that he had told me about, so close to where I could see it around the corner. But, of course, he pulled me the opposite way and into a shop, where I saw a woman, probably in her early forties, sewing a blue cloth.

"Bonsoir!" France said loudly, startling the woman from her work. She looked up, pushed some of her graying hair behind an ear, and smiled at him. I just stood behind France's leg, grasping his loose tights in a strongish grip. 'I guess they know each other...' I thought as they carried on a conversation in French.

I decided to look around the shop a bit, letting go of the fabric in my hand and wondering around, looking at the different colors and patterns. There were all kinds of tunics, tights, and coats in sizes for toddlers up to grown adults. I guessed that it was a men's store, since I saw no dresses, skirts, or women's clothes anywhere.

"Louis, come 'ere, please!" France called. I guess I roamed a little too far from him. I hurried back to his side, apologizing for wandering off. He chuckled and looked down at me, smiling.

"No need to apologize!" he said, waving his hand, as if to dismiss that thought. "Colette just needs to take your measurements." I'm getting clothes...from a men's store? Why- Oh yeah, he thinks I'm a boy. I held back a snicker at the thought.

Colette grimaced at the first glance of my filthiness,(being because there was no water without salt except for drinking water, so I couldn't clean up) but smiled anyway. She took my hand and led me to the back of the store, where she had me stand on something that looked like a pedestal. Turning to a drawer, she rummaged around in it until she brought out a long strip with numbers on it.

"Um...H-hold still," she said, clearly not knowing much English. I did as she said, letting her lift my arms up to where they were sticking out to the side, almost like a cross. She spread the strip along the length of my arms and around my chest, stomach, and neck, then moved downward to my hips and legs, measuring the the height and width of them. "Done."

"Merci," I responded with a failed accent. She laughed lightly at my attempt, and I blushed from embarrassment, covering my mouth with my hands.

"Come," she said, offering me her hand. I took it gently, seeing how it was covered in cuts and pricks that were probably from using sewing needles all day. She lead me back to the front, where I saw France examining a small, light purple tunic with a weird design on the front. It almost looked like a flower of some sorts. Then, I saw him turn to us and smile again.

"Louis, what do you think of this?" he asked, and turned so I could see the whole thing. I saw that the tunic had light green tights to go with it, and that the collar had a pale yellow color. But, the whole thing looked too small for me to fit in. I was also curious about the flower thing on the front.

"I like it, but, what is that on the front of it?" I asked, pointing to it. He looked all too happy to tell me.

"It's called a 'Fleur de lis'. It's very common, but it is a beautiful design," he responded, stroking it lightly with his thumb. I pondered the name in my head, trying to translate it. 'Fleur de lis... It's a...'

"Lily?" I asked out loud, hoping that I was correct. I was relieved when I saw him smile from ear to ear and nodding his head. 'Good, I actually got it right...' I thought. Then, I heard him start to talk to Colette again.

"Je vais prendre celui-ci," he said, handing her a small bag filled with some money. I heard her say her thanks as we left the store and started walking the streets again.

"It should be ready by next week. Until then, I'll have to lend you some of my old clothes," he said, taking my hand again. Oh, great! I'll be struttin' around in clothes in a fashion older than the seventeenth century! My favorite thing to do!

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><p><strong>Ok...It's 2AM and I'm finally DONE WITH THIS CHAPTER!<strong>

**Sorry, I need some desperate sleep. So, review on what I might need to fix, m'kay? M'kay.  
><strong>


	3. Shopping and a New Brother

**Okley Dokely...You're gunna kill me. It's shorter than I thought it would be.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, but I do own Louisiane. But not in real life. Then I would be the mayor or some really rich person.**

**WARNING: Real name usage!**

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><p>After we left the shop, we started walking around a bit more, passing a lot of different shops on our way. While we were walking by the food market, I couldn't help but notice some sort of plant that looked like a pepper. I knew it wasn't a pepper because it was <em>way<em> too long with a darkish-green color.

I let go of France's hand for a second to pick one up, examining it closely. It seemed like such an interesting thing to me, I couldn't just pass it up. France noticed the slight disappearance of my hand and stopped walking to look down at me, then looked at the long vegetable in my tiny hands. He gave a smile and chuckled lightly.

"Why, merci, Louis! You have reminded me that we need to buy some _gombo_," he said cheerfully as he fished out some money from his pocket. I held a confused look on my face as he handed the merchant the money. He chuckled.

"Okra. It's called 'okra' in English," he stated as he grabbed about five of them, placing them in the basket around his arm. Wait, when the hell did he get a basket? I shook my head, taking one out to hold.

"Stop creeping me out like that..." I muttered under my breath.

Finally, after what seemed like an _eternity_, we arrived at France's mansion- err… house with a butt-load of groceries. I didn't really like the trip, because everything that I even _looked_ at, France needed to "restock" on. It made me feel spoiled, since he was probably buying it all for me.

I entered through the door cautiously, the okra in my hand positioned in front of my face for some sort of protection. 'Stop being so paranoid,' I thought to calm myself. Yeah, stop being so paranoid when _anything_ could happen. I jumped when I heard France shout.

"Matthieu, nous sommes chez!" he yelled, his words echoing throughout the halls of the (insanely large) house. I held a confused look on my face. 'Matthieu? Who is he talking about?' I thought. Maybe it was his brother or something.

After a few seconds, I heard footsteps running toward us from one of the halls. That's when I saw him, and boy, was I off! He was a young kid, around the age of ten with wavy blond hair that had a stubborn curl, similar to mine, sticking out in front of his face. His stunning violet-blue eyes held excitement and relief.

…Yep, _way_ too young to be his brother.

I stood behind France's legs like when we were in the shop, watching silently as he ran up to us.

"Papa, you're home!" he shouted, colliding into France with a fierce hug. I jumped back so I wouldn't be stepped on by the man. So, he already had a son? Whatever, it's not like I cared. I'm not jealous of the boy… I shook my head to get the thoughts out of my head.

"Oui, and look how much you've grown!" he said happily.

"It's only been a week since you've left, though." He shook his head, and then noticed me, clutching the vegetable to my chest. He looked a bit surprised to see me, probably not expecting France to bring someone home. I stared back, and after a few seconds, a small smile made its way to my face. France seemed to have just noticed our little "meeting", and slapped his forehead lightly.

"How rude of me! Matthieu, this is your new brother, Louis," he said, crouching down to my level. He placed his hand on my back, lightly pushing me forward toward him. "Louis, this is Matthieu. He represents…um…" he trailed off, thinking hard of the country's name.

"Canada," Matthieu reminded, looking as though it were a normal thing.

"Ah, yes. He represents Canada," France said, smiling and ruffling my hair. Though, when he pulled his hand back, he grimaced in slight disgust at how much dirt collected on it from my hair.

"Er… Matthieu, could you do me a favor?"

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><p><strong>I am SOOOOO sorry that it is SOOOO short and that it took SOOOO long to update. I had major writer's block, went on vacation to Colorado, had even MORE writer's block, so I just said, "The hell with it!" and posted this...midget. Though I have nothing against midgets. I love midgets. *shot by a bazooka*<strong>

**So...yeah. I'll try to update more frequently.**


	4. A Bath and a New Meal

**HELLO~!**

**EXTREMELY sorry about the late update. I just started school again, plus it's high school now. Yay, Freshman~!**

**Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN HETALIA! Hetalia is owned by Hidekez Himaruya. (I think that's how it's spelled...)**

**Warnings: Nondescript nudity, Real name usage... pretty much it!**

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><p><strong>Story of Louisiana Part 4<strong>

**A Bath and a New Meal**

Cocking his head to the side, Matthieu smiled brightly and nodded, looking a bit curious. "Of course!" he said, obviously willing to do anything for France. I shifted a bit uncomfortably, for I could clearly see what is about to be asked. _Please, no. Please, no. Plea-_

"Could you give Louis a bath for me? I, unfortunately have piles of paperwork to fill out, including Louis' founding papers," he stated, shrugging off his fancy blue coat and hanging it on a nearby stand. I nearly slumped as I could practically hear God laughing at me from Heaven. I inwardly groaned, not liking this situation. Matthieu's going to find out my charade, and surely, telling France would be the first thing he would do. _Craaaaap..._

Thinking this, I didn't realize my grip loosening until the okra fell from my hands, causing me to be so startled from the slight **thud** that it made me jump. France stared at me, a look of confusion written on his face. Matthieu just stood there for a moment before speaking up.

"I guess so... I was just about to take a bath, myself," he said, making me nearly groan from despair. I guess being a boy won't last as long as I thought...

...But, maybe Matthieu was easy to convince?

Said Canadian took a step forward, hesitantly taking a hold of my tiny hand. "Eh, follow me." He tugged me gently to confirm his request. I had no choice but to follow him, panicking as I did. _Form a plan, Form a plan..._

..._I got nothing. I guess I'll just make it up as I go along, _I thought.

We walked down the halls, passing a lot of doors on the way. _And he just wants to call this a house..._ As we passed by more doors, my head started to spin until we finally reached the washroom. I was actually kind of surprised at how it looked. It was so clean and...white! There were a bunch of shelves on each wall, all of them holding different types of cleansing soaps and lotions. In the center of the room was a giant tub that could probably fit six or eight of me inside. Next to it was a neat, clean pile of towels and clothes.

Matthieu closed the door behind us and walked to the tub, sticking his hand into the water already in it to test the temperature. "It's hasn't cooled a lot, so it's still good," he muttered, walking to one of the shelves and picking out a soap. "I guess the maid already came and brought your clothes."

After walking back to the tub and placing the soap on the edge of it, Matthieu started to undo the buttons on his vest, slipping it off before taking off his shirt underneath it. I still hadn't thought of a plan, and I tried again, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Matthieu, of course, just _had_ to notice this.

"Louis? You don't have to be nervous. We're both boys, right?" he said, a reassuring smile on his face. Oh, the irony! I would have laughed at it if I weren't so nervous. The Canadian sighed before walking towards me. "Here, let me help you." He grabbed the bottom of my dirty gown and lifted it up.

"N-no! I..." I tried to say something, but before I could, the gown was pulled over my head, leaving me exposed. I gasped and grabbed my gown from his hand, trying to cover myself again. Matthieu just stared at me for a bit, trying to process the information of my lack of a certain body part. I stood awkwardly, starting to shift again.

"Please...don't tell France!" I exclaimed quietly, as if France was right outside the door listening. He still stood there, but after a few seconds, he smiled and nodded his head. I sighed in relief, dropped the gown, and made my way to the giant tub. He stripped off the rest of his clothing and hopped in before lifting me up and placing me in the warm water. _That went better than expected..._

I smiled an sighed as Matthieu scooped up some water and poured it over my head, washing most of the dirt out of it before removing the rest with the soap. He continued to wash himself and me, until he suddenly stopped and stared at me, mouth agape. I looked at him quizzically. "What?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.

"Y-your hair! It's so red!" he said, obviously surprised. I nodded my head slowly, making my stupid curl bounce along with the motion. Seriously, you would think it would stay down when it's wet! Anyway, I just reacted to his discovery like it was extremely obvious.

"Yeah, and yours is so...blond," I replied, giving him a weird look. Then I felt my self shiver as the water started to get cold. I could see that Matthieu was starting to shiver also.

"Okay, w-we're all clean now," he stuttered, then stood up and jumped out, grabbing the towels and wrapping one of them around himself. I attempted at getting out by myself, almost making it but slipping on the edge and landing back into the water, my head going under for a second. I came up just as Matthieu reached in and grabbed me, lifting me out. "You okay?" he asked, clearly worried. I just nodded and reached for the other towel.

We dried off and got dressed in silence, him putting on a baggy shirt and some trousers. I looked at what I had to wear and merely shrugged. Since I had no clothes yet, I had to wear France's old clothes from, what? A thousand years ago? I didn't know. It was okay, just a darkish blue gown with three fleur-de-lis on the front with matching white bottoms. It looked a bit too big, though. After I put them on, Matthieu looked at me to see how they fit, and chuckled. I just stuck my tongue out at him.

We started to leave the lavatory, and when we were almost out the door, I stopped Matthieu. When he turned around, I yanked on his hand to bring his face down to my level, looking him square in the eye.

"If you tell France that I'm a girl, even make the _slightest hint_, I will find you in your sleep and make _you_ a girl, m'kay?" I told him, my voice sweet but my eyes saying different. He paled a bit and nodded stiffly. I smiled again. Despite my size, I could be pretty damn scary at times.

We walked through the halls again, me keeping my eyes on the floor so I didn't become dizzy like before, until we heard faint groaning coming from around the corner. We followed the sound until we came to a stop in the kitchen, where we saw France sitting at a table with his head in one hand, and a few cards in the other.

"What's wrong with him?" I whispered to Matthieu, who just shrugged in return. I rolled my eyes and let go of his hand, then started inching my way toward France quietly. When I reached him, I hesitantly stretched my arm out and tugged gently on his shirt.

Almost immediately, he lifted his head out of his hand and looked down at me. I saw his eyes widen a bit from shock. "Louis! I thought your hair was brown!" he exclaimed in bewilderment. I sighed. Since when did my hair become a big shocker? I shook my head slightly.

"Why were you holding your head? Did you hit it?" I asked, and he just chuckled and shook his head.

"Non, I just don't know what to cook for supper. It's sort of a... chef's block of sorts," he replied, ruffling my now-clean hair.

"Chef's block..." I repeated, then I had an idea. "Why don't you create something new? I'll help!" I smiled and put my hands together in excitement. Matthieu had taken a seat in a nearby chair and was watching us curiously.

"Wonderful idea, though I'll have to pick some ingredients to use," he muttered mostly to himself.

"Use the okra, and...can I pick out some of the other things you have?" I asked, already heading to where I saw vegetables sitting in a large bowl. France nodded in my direction, looking through cabinets for a pot or pan to use. I saw him looking at a giant pot that looked like it could fit a whole chicken inside. "Oh, use that one! I was thinking about making a soup," I said, picking out the okra and other ingredients that we bought earlier that day.

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><p><strong>So... Was it better than the last post, now that this one was longer? ._.<strong>

**Okay, it's 1:30 in tha mornin' and I have to go to a wedding tomorrow, so...yeah. Review on what I might possibly need to fix.**

**Au revoir, my little dumplings~!**


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